The Muggle Project
by Ceri Blackheart
Summary: ..."You're going to pair me up with Longbottom! You must be out of your bloody mind! I refuse to take part in this activity!" - "Alright, then let Miss Granger lead you to it." The corner of Snape’s mouth tilted into a smirk.
1. Chapter 1

**The Muggle Project**

_By Ceri Blackheart_

**Introduction (… well, sort of):**

**Name:** Draco Malfoy

**Age:** 17

**Birthday:** June 5, 1980

**Parentage:** Pureblood

**Eye colour:** Gray

**Hair colour:** Pale, white blonde

**Distinguishing features:** Pale pointed face

**First year:** 1991

**House:** Slytherin

**Quidditch:** Slytherin Quidditch team Seeker (1992 - present)

**Organizations & affiliations:** Inquisitorial Squad (under Dolores Umbridge), ex-Death Eater.

**Friends:** Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Blaise Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson.

**Awards, etc.:** Prefect for Slytherin his 5th year (but not his 6th).

**Wand:** Hawthorn and unicorn hair, 10 inches, reasonably springy.

**Interests:** Quidditch, the Dark Arts, himself.

**Skills:** flying; Potions; Occlumency; faking injuries; finding where you hurt and rubbing salt in it; whining to Daddy ('Which is entirely not true'-says Draco at fourth year).

**Brooms:** 1991: Comet 260; 1992 - 1993: Nimbus 2001; 1993 – present: Firebolt.

**Patronus:** (unable to produce one)

**Boggart:** Himself … as a Gryffindor.

**Dating status: Currently Available**

**Name:** Hermione Jean Granger

**Age:** 18

**Birthday:** September 19, 1979

**Parentage:** Muggle-born

**Eye colour:** Brown

**Hair colour:** Brown and bushy

**First year:** 1991

**House:** Gryffindor

**Earned 11 O.W.L.s:** She received 10 "Outstandings" (Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology, Astronomy, History of Magic, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and one unknown class), and an "Exceeds expectations" in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

**Awards, etc.:** Prefect for Gryffindor her 5th, 6th, and 7th years.

**Organizations & affiliations:** Dumbledore's Army; S.P.E.W.

**Wand: **Vine wood with a dragon heartstring core.

**Skills:** Packing for long trips, Logic; Arithmancy; portable waterproof fires; Has actually read Hogwarts: A History. Can produce a full Patronus and mastered the Protean Charm to create the enchanted coins used by Dumbledore's Army.

**Patronus:** Otter

**Boggart:** McGonagall telling her she failed everything.

**Dating status: NOT AVAILABLE**

_The only similarity between the two is that neither can stand each other._

…_and that's all you have to know._

Enjoy!

**Chapter One: My lot and your lot, what's the difference?**

"—and this is starting two months from now." Snape finished his statement. He absolutely loved seeing the students' misery and the looks on their faces were just exquisite.

"So let me get this straight," Draco Malfoy breathed in slowly then exhaled. "You are going to abandon us Wizarding teenagers in the Muggle world for six fucking months—starting a fortnight from today, strip us from magic, and worst of all, you're going to pair me up with _Longbottom?!_ You must be out of your bloody mind! I refuse to take part in this activity. It is just all too inhumane!" He growled at Snape in front of the whole class.

"Actually, you should be thanking your _lovely _Headmaster for that." Snape rolled his eyes and sneered. As much as he loved his Godson, it was still required for him to follow Dumbledore.

"I am still not going. You shall hear from my father about this. And maybe even mother would gladly step in," He shuddered for a moment, imagining the ghastly look on his mother's face as she finds out that he,_ Draco Malfoy_, is to interact with the filthy lot called Muggles. "And I'm sure_ that _would convince you to exclude me from this awful activity." Malfoy wrinkled his nose in disgust.

From afar, Hermione Granger, alongside Harry Potter—the boy who lived and defeated the Dark Lord, and Ron Weasley, who was behind them all these years, supporting them in their struggles in life, pursed her thin lips. She quickly moistened them with her saliva then bit down on it hard.

"Fat git. What's he got against Muggles? Dad loves them—" Ron interrupted by Pansy _bloody_ Parkinson who squinted her eyes in an unattractive fashion and snorted,

"And we know that your dad's gone bonkers long ago, eh Weasley? Playing with silly flying Muggle cars and rubber duckies." The whole class sniggered along.

"For your information, fascination for Muggle items is not a sign of one who has gone mad. After all, he wasn't a fool who supported a sadistic Lord-wannabe who thought he'd be the king of the world—who in the end suffered a great deal of uncontrolled magic." Hermione spat, eyes glinting, ignoring Ron's protests of wanting to defend his own dad.

The whole class went quiet and most of the Slytherins had bowed their heads in shame. Draco Malfoy, on the other hand shot a deadly glare in Hermione's direction. Everyone knew the story behind Voldemort's fall, and it sure was not a pleasant thing to hear.

"That is quite enough, Miss Granger. Ten points from Gryffindor for bringing up such a subject. And the answer is still no, Mister Malfoy, you _will_ take part in this activity just like everyone in this room along with the other students in your year." said slimy old Snape. Hermione's lips twitched in anger, but she knew it was better to keep quiet.

Malfoy, who had, at this point, gotten over about the previous subject, raised his voice yet once again. "I AM NOT GOING, AND YOU _CANNOT_ MAKE ME!"

"Your father _and_ mother have already agreed to this…wonderful activity."

His eyes wide as plates and he paled when he saw the _'That-is-Quite-ENOUGH-look' _on Snape's revolting face, and were resigned to his fate. However, he implored: "No, not with Longbottom, please, anyone but Longbottom. If you want me to turn as ugly and as Gryffindor-like as he, then by all means, but if you love me at_ all _as a Godson, then please, for the love of Merlin, do not send me off to that Muggle world with_ fucking _Longbottom!"

Snape's eyes were drawn to Hermione's angry form. She was hissing furiously to Harry and Ron, who looked as angry as she. "Alright, let Miss Granger lead you to it. After all, she _is_ from the Muggle world, so why not learn from one who comes from it herself?" The corner of Snape's mouth tilted into a smirk. He felt pity for Draco Malfoy, but seeing that the Mudblood was the only one without a partner, he had absolutely no choice. Besides, he got some sick pleasure from the look on his godson's face.

From across the room, Neville's loud whisper to the heavens saying, "YES!" was heard by his classmates who eventually erupted into laughter.

"GRANGER'S STUCK WITH MALFOY!" Seamus roared in laughter. Everyone was in high spirits, except for Malfoy's cronies, Hermione, Ron, Harry, and of course, Malfoy himself.

"NO!" Ron's eyes practically popped out of their sockets.

"Merlin!" Pansy gasped and brought her slender hands to cover her mouth in horror.

"You can't put me in with that bitch!" Malfoy trembled. "You can put me back with Longbottom! Just not her, anyone **but** her! Sev, _do_ something!" Snape hated that disgusting, shallow nickname—Sev, but he was willing to let it pass for now.

"Professor Snape, I demand a regrouping!" Hermione growled as she went down the steps toward Snape. Her nostrils flared in fury. _No way in hell am I going to end up with that sodding prat!_

"YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO US!" The blond and the shaggy haired brunette both cried in unison. The class seemed to stop jeering and realised just how much the Slytherin and the Gryffindor hated each other.

Snape smirked, "Oh yes, I do believe I can."

Malfoy took a deep breath and leant against the wooden desk for support. "I think I need to lie down." Malfoy quivered and paled.

_Where's a Time Turner when you need it? _Hermione thought to herself.

"No, you shall **not** get your hands on such an item, Miss Granger." Apparently, the infinitely maddening Snape had been entering her thoughts.

"Bollocks," she cursed.

"I do not tolerate language here, Miss Granger, another five points from Gryffindor for crudeness." Snape taking points away from helpless Gryffindors sounded like music to his own ears, and not only had Hermione been paired with the last person she'd rather be with in this world, but she had also lost her own house ten points in a span of five minutes.

The Gryffindors' angry moans and groans erupted throughout the dungeon. "But Malfoy's been sayin' _fuck _for the last hour!" Snape merely acted as if he heard nothing at all and continued to listen to his Godson's woes.

"First, I don't get the post of Head Boy, second, father_**and**_mother agreed to this pointless activity," Malfoy mumbled as Snape joined in, "—with slight abuse of persuasion, of course. You _know_ your parents would not allow you to take part in such a thing so easily." Malfoy narrowed his eyes as he stared at the floor, oblivious to the fact that they had just been dismissed for their next class.

Hermione refused to leave the room. She was determined to make Snape change his mind. "Sn—Professor Snape, please, by all means, you _do_ know that Malfoy and I _hate_ the living souls out of each other, right?"

"Of course I'm aware of that," snapped Snape.

"And yet you still pair us up?! Imagine, six bloody months with this… with this thing!" said Malfoy in exasperation. He spluttered to find the right insult, but failed miserably.

"Yes, and I still pair you up. After all, I think it's just wise to do so. After all, if you _did_ stay in the Muggle world with Longbottom, Merlin knows how you'd survive. And since Miss Granger here is a Muggle herself, I'm s—" Snape was interrupted by Hermione who growled, "Muggle **born**," Snape shot her a look and continued speaking. "Since Miss Granger here is a Muggle _born_, I'm quite sure her experiences are enough for you to survive. And I'm _also_ sure that she'd be more than happy to assist and guide you during your time in this Activity."

"Sir, might I suggest—" Draco tried once again to interrupt, but was silenced.

"_Shut up_, Mister Malfoy, unless you want me to do it for you. Now I suggest that both of you go to Lunch unless you want me to take that privilege away as well."

"Ugly prat." Hermione hissed under her breath as she walked to the Great Hall, a four meter distance from Malfoy.

"Wench." He retorted with narrowed eyes. Both were itching to strangle each other to death.

Hermione stopped abruptly, turned around to face Malfoy and snarled, "I detest you."

"I detest you even more. With vehemence!" He added, gritting his teeth together. "Why can't your lot just stay away from my lot?!" He groaned, digging his nails into his palms.

"And what do you mean by that?!" She snapped.

"Since you're too dim-witted to understand, I'm afraid that I'd have to elaborate on my previous statement. WHY CAN'T YOUR LOT, THE **MUDBLOODS**, JUST STAY AWAY FROM THE _BEAUTIFUL_ PEOPLE, THE **PUREBLOODED** WIZARDS?!"

"I'm here for good and you can do **nothing** to make me go away! So you better start getting used to it because starting two months from now, you shall be living in the same flat as me." She hissed coldly.

"Fuck you, Granger."

"Watch your mouth, Malfoy. A passerby might think you'd actually shag a Mudblood."

"Pretty little tongue you have there, eh Granger? I just wonder what you _could_ say when I cut that off."

"As if you can, Malfoy. What are you gonna do? Ask daddy's Death Eaters to cut a helpless little Mudblood's tongue off? So that he can go to Azkaban again?" She said slyly.

"You do _not_ know what I'm capable of, Granger."

"And you don't know what _I'm_ capable of, Malfoy."

They both seethed and glared at each other in heated silence.

**Author's note: Well, that's it. What'd you think? By the way, yes, this is AU. Which means if you stumble across characters who are supposed to be dead, but aren't? That's gotta be one of them.**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Muggle Project**

_By Ceri Blackheart_

**A/N: **Yes, my style has gone from extremely long, to extremely short. But do bear with me for now for these are only the minor chapters. The good ones come in soon... especially next the next chapter. –grin-

**Chapter Two: Chop the fucking potatoes**

"I'd be damned if we were asked to bring our luggage the muggle way." Ron groaned as he pushed in the last of his luggage into the compartment. They seemed to be filled with countless of sweets, and Hermione thought, _'Ugh, Ron.'_

"Ron, don't be such a git, muggles do things without magic, and they're far from becoming extinct." Hermione snickered and took a healthy bite off her sweetened pumpkin stick.

"_Bloody fuck!"_ They could hear Draco's curses from outside, apparently still not taking the news flippantly.

"Honestly, at least you're stuck with somebody _normal_," she rolled her eyes at the much-too-pleased Lavender Brown. "I'm stuck with a mad monkey." She sighed and popped her head out the window to see a group of professors who seemed to see them off. They were waving to somebody, and as she looked to her left and right, looking for somebody who would wave back, she realised that they were waving to her. Professor Dumbledore gave her a nod, while other professors, including Hagrid and excluding Snape, were waving to her. She waved back and she saw Professor McGonagall mouth a _'Good luck'_.

She got distracted as the sound of loud, heavy, and almost angry footsteps emanated from outside their compartment which was growing louder and louder by each second. Hermione popped her head back in.

"Granger," the sliding door was furiously opened, revealing a pink faced Malfoy, evidently livid.

"The doors are too fragile to break, Malfoy, try a wall instead." Hermione hissed. Ron growled at the new comer, while Lavender blushed at the sight of Draco Malfoy.

"Watch your mutated dog, Granger, he might have rabies." Draco retorted as he brushed his sleeves off of imaginary dust.

"Bugger off, Ferret, you've got no business here." Ron hissed.

"What are you here for, Malfoy? I'm trying to enjoy my last few hours of non-Malfoy-hood. So go away." Hermione spat.

"Granger, you have got to tell me there are elves or muggles to do my biddings in there." He ignored Ron's seething glares and Hermione could tell that he tried to say it the calmest possible way he could.

"Malfoy, if you'd like to kill the very point of our grade, then we can go ahead and get a maid so when we get home, we'd have a big, fat failing grade stuck on our faces." She said sardonically.

"Fine, then during the project, you'll be doing my biddings." He said contentedly as he swung his arm around the pole.

"Malfoy, you of all people, should know by now that I am not one you can just order around. So go away and sit down with your friends, whom by the way, are considered the _beautiful people_." She smirked.

"Time to go, keep tight in your seats." The conductor shouted.

~*~

"Professor, don't you think that Professor Snape chose the wrong students to be together? I mean, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy... are both teenagers. What's more is that Draco Malfoy has had rumours floating around him..." Professor McGonagall said anxiously.

"Minerva, I'm sure Severus had a very good explanation for this." Albus Dumbledore smiled and sipped on his tea happily.

"But Professor Dumbledore, There is a risk of physical attraction... and might lead to..." Once again, her voice trailed off, apparently too embarrassed to say the word.

"Are you afraid that these students might actually engage in sex, Minerva?" Albus chuckled, and put down his teacup. He stared at the slightly blushing woman who nodded.

"The rumours... Are you not worried of this?" Minerva finally blurted. Of course why wouldn't she become frightened? There had already been news of students doing unimaginable things behind their backs even _in_ Hogwarts! What more if they were _outside_? And the period of seclusion... The thoughts popped in rapidly and swirled inside her already vexed mind.

"Minerva, these things are _normal _and out of our control. We can _only _act if something else happens or rather, is conceived—which is less likely." Albus smiled at the witch's concern, but given the most unlikely pair to develop something, as of the moment, he could probably worry less.

"Please be mindful of the rumours, I somewhat believe that these are true, of course I have no proof—but by the way his actions are executed..." Minerva McGonagall sighed, there was such hesitation in her that she could not even convey what she wanted to say properly.

"Minerva, we are speaking of Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy in here. Yes, Mister Malfoy may have intentions, but I believe that Miss Granger is far more responsible than you take her for. And due to Mister Malfoy's great dislike for her blood impurity, I think that it is safe to say that we can rest out minds and hope for the great outcome of this project." Albus popped a lemon drop in his mouth and revealed a small smile.

"Albus... Draco Malfoy is persistent. Also, the period of seclusion. Six months, six months to develop something." Minerva shuffled in her seat.

Albus gave Minerva a nod, and she immediately fell silent, letting him pour her another cup of tea.

~*~

"Absolutely not!" Draco Malfoy, the prat, huffed. He crossed his arms and refused to move from the sofa.

"Malfoy, unless you want to order yourself your own dinner, then I suggest you get your lazy arse up here and help me chop the potatoes!" Hermione was furious, no, she was beyond furious. Not only did the brat refuse to help her with HIS luggage.

"You brat!" She snarled at him, yes, she snarled.

"I'm busy, Granger. Talk to someone else who would bear to hear whatever you've got to say."

Hermione was a very composed woman. She believed to be headstrong and would not just step down to other people's whims. Which is why she believed that in order for her to live harmoniously with Draco Malfoy, she should be able to compromise with him. But in order for her to compromise with him, _he_ should be willing to work with her, and that does not mean lazing around sitting your arse on the damned sofa.

"I've done the cleaning, I've brought your luggage to your bloody room, and I've even writted out our report for the day without your help. The only thing I'm asking you to do is **chop the fucking potatoes**. What I do not understand how it is so hard to get up from that chair so you can just help me **chop the fucking potatoes**. I'm not asking you to cut it symmetrically, hell! I don't even care how you do it. JUST **CHOP THE FUCKING POTATOES!**"

At that point in her life, she finally cracked. The ultimate statement of profanity and redundancy just easily found its way out her mouth like fresh, warm spit.

"Get a grip, Granger, if you're _that_ desperate, then I guess I have no choice but to **chop your fucking potatoes**." He chuckled and left for the kitchen.

Hermione, not only furious, but stood there flabbergasted. Not only has she been vulgar, she also has been ridiculously redundant. To top it off, she was called _desperate_.

She had made her mind.

From then on, she would see Draco Malfoy from a different perspective.

Because Hermione Granger absolutely hates Draco Malfoy.

And after seeing how he chopped the potatoes in a way that even a baby would do better, she screamed at the top of her lungs, **"DRACO MALFOY!!!!!"**

**A/N: **Yes, quite short. Do wait for the next one. This chapter is only a warm up. The next one will get quite... steamy? Perhaps. –cough-


	3. Chapter 3

**The Muggle Project**

_By Lady Ceri_

**A/N: **I've been getting many story alerts, but less than five reviews. It made me really sad as I wrote a pretty good chapter for this one. Reviews are what keeps me going, so motivate me please!

**Chapter Three: When it comes to lack of sex...**

"Mordred, Granger. Is this what you call food back in your kitchen?" Draco gasped and tried to avert his eyes from the pot of _Mystery Stew._

"Well, I suppose it's a wee bit well-done..." Hermione, too, tried her best to look cool as she desperately tried to avoid Draco's eyes to avoid further humiliation.

"Merlin! After seeing this... this..." He stared at the pot of black stew with chunks of unknown ingredients floating atop. "This... whatever you call it! I don't even remember how a potato looks like anymore!" He grimaced.

"I'm sure it's not bad. I mean... It's got beef... and potatoes... and well, I don't quite remember but I'm pretty sure it's edible." She said the last part as if she was certainly sure of herself.

"I'd rather not eat food cooked by a mudblood, thanks. We've ordered different types of muggle junk food. I suppose I won't have a hard time taking in a chicken nugget or something." He rolled his eyes at her and her _masterpiece_ then headed towards the phone.

She could hear him smooth talking to the other line which would mean most probably the operator was a woman. Hermione, of course, being the type of person she was, wouldn't simply let Draco Malfoy's comment on her cooking bring her down. No, she was going to eat what she cooked and she would be proud of it.

Of course, one look at the stew, and her high spirits immediately vanished.

From afar, she could hear the words, _ghastly_ and _mystery stew_. She seethed in silence.

She stared once more at Draco Malfoy then headed towards the kitchen to get herself a plate and a huge glass of water to swallow whatever she had to put in her mouth.

By the time she had her third bite, she'd sworn she'd lost her appetite. It simply did not go well with her stomach, and _whatever_ it was that she did try to eat was giving her the signal that it wanted out of her stomach, too.

She folded her arms on the table and nestled her head into it. She began to doze off, hoping that her slumber would soon relieve her hunger.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she opened her eyes. The sight was hazy, residue of a deep sleep. First thing she saw was the digital clock that read **10:26** **am**. Of course, it was still the morning.

Second thing that interested her was a box of what resembled the package from McDonald's. Above it was resting a napkin that said, "_To Charity._"

She knew she should have been angry, but the brunette couldn't help but feel embarrassed that even Malfoy himself took pity on her. _Or maybe he could just be teasing her_, she thought.

"Granger, open the bloody door!" She could hear Malfoy calling from outside.

And she did.

And when she did, the first thing she said was, "Why didn't you say it louder? I mean, this is a free country."

"I didn't want to embarrass myself."

"The doorbell?"

"What the hell is a door-bell? Bell for the door?"

"Yes, something like that."

"Just get out of the way and I'll find something to do." He pushed through Hermione and sat down on the piano chair.

Hermione hadn't exactly taken a good look of the house. Being preoccupied with the thought of having _a_ Malfoy around wasn't exactly something to just leave not dwelled upon.

The house was fairly new. It looked hardly used, or rather just simply well-kept by the previous owner. The house was filled with orange and brown tones giving the occupier a warm feeling into it. There was a piano, it was brown too. She only realised now at how spacious the whole flat was when she noticed the number of furniture that was present. For each room, there was a king-sized bed and she immediately fell in love with her room.

She could hear the faint playing of the piano. From her angle she could see Draco Malfoy pressing lightly on the keys.

"You play the piano?" She tried to make small talk.

"What's it to you?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Hermione knew best to let the 'conversation' end there so she resumed to her room.

The music gradually grew louder. Perhaps Malfoy finally figured that it was nothing to be ashamed of, piano playing that is.

His music filled the flat. He played gently, unbefitting to his personality.

And then he stopped abruptly. The flat fell silent.

It was _too _silent now.

"Malfoy?" She called out softly; she popped her head out the door to see Malfoy's shuddering back.

"Malfoy are you okay?" Hermione went closer, and she could have sworn she heard faint sobs.

"Go away, Mudblood." His voice was raspy.

But she didn't. She stood there, staring at his back shudder. He was crying, and she knew it. Although for some reason she didn't want to know. She reached her hand out, her fingertips a few centimetres away from his back, but she took it back.

The night came and both teens were still locked inside their bedrooms.

_No source of magic._

_No source of fucking entertainment._

_No women—because I sure am __**not **__going to shag some muggle tart._

_Money, lots._

_Communication? Merlin forbid if they count Granger as someone to communicate with._

Draco Malfoy doesn't usually sigh, but for the record, he did. He sighed loudly in frustration. He sighed for the lack of sex, he sighed for the lack of entertainment, he sighed for being stuck with the one woman he never found attractive, and he sighed for not being able to spend his money on anything as there was nothing interesting to buy. _Fuck communication_, he thought. If he went by summer by communication through sex, then he'd find himself sex. He need no Hermione Granger, he can't even consider shagging her.

He was feeling...needy.

Thinking of his lack of sex _made_ him needy.

Once again, he sighed.

_**Bet you five Sickles you knew what was coming.**_

"Fuck." He cursed and he collapsed on his bed, his pants below his knees his erection standing tall and his hands on both sides of his bed.

"Fuck." Hermione cursed as she stubbed her toe on the door as she opened it.

Dinner came and both were extremely worn out. But of course, Hermione Granger failing to cease to understand the phrase, _"Leave me alone"_, had once again tried to make small talk.

"So how was your day?" She asked him, twirling the same strand of spaghetti for the last five minutes. She was bored and she knew he was too. What she just can't get was why wouldn't he just step down from that platform of pride and just try to get along?

"Eventful." He replied sarcastically.

"Oh..." was all she could mutter.

After a few, long seconds of silence, Malfoy in the end, said something.

"Granger, are there any places to get down and get smashed in here?"

"Sorry?" She didn't understand, of course she wouldn't understand.

"Do you know any place to drink and get wasted?" He repeated slowly.

"Oh! Oh, yes! There are loads of places to do so in here. Especially Muggle London." She laughed.

"To do what? Staring at bulb lights all day?" He snorted into his coffee.

"It's called a _light bulb, _and no actually, we _do _have places called bars and even sex clubs—that is if that was what you were thinking of." Hermione rolled her eyes. _I bet you don't even know how a bloody light bulb works._

He stared at Hermione long and hard. Hermione stared back, cocking her head to the side as if to say, '_What the fuck are you looking at?'_

"You know what Granger. Maybe you can actually be of help to me." He grinned sheepishly, as if pleased with himself then resumed to eating the spaghetti Hermione had cooked, regardless of whether it was too undercooked or too dry.

"Huh?" Hermione didn't like sounding so dumbfounded, but this time, she had no excuse whatsoever.

"Chocolate frogs, Granger, honestly. Where _has_ your wits gone to? Have you taken it out for a walk this afternoon and ran away from you? Really! What I'm saying is... _you—_" he pointed at her, "are going to show me around in Muggle London. Not the ones filled with weird items like iPods and such. I want to see the action, the alcohol, the _sex_ - anything in those categories as long as I can actually see time fly by _quickly_." He added the last word out of desperation.

"But what if it doesn't suit his royal highness's tastes?" She said mockingly.

"You know what, Granger? I don't _bloody_ care. I just want out of this house. If you even call this trash a house." He got up from his seat and made a silly gesture with his hands pointing towards the door. "Well? Aren't we going? I'm not exactly getting any younger here, am I?"

"Mordred, Malfoy. If you could just bloody wait, I haven't even finished with my dinner yet." She poked her undercooked spaghetti angrily while glaring at him.

"Well, excuse me I'd have thought you weren't hungry. Because it seems to me that you were twirling that strand of—if you even call that spaghetti for a good ten minutes now." He retorted.

Finally, sex. His ears perked up. One may call Draco Malfoy perverted, but the desperation was driving him mad. It was either sex or alcohol, the only way he could keep his mind off being with a Mudblood like Granger.

_**And finally they've left the building**_

The music was blaring and there were drinks Draco didn't even know that existed flowing endlessly. The muggles hadn't been at all what he'd expected them to be. Many of them actually looked decent and some even he could've sworn were part Veela for he could hardly resist the allure they were sending off.

Hermione on the other hand was being an absolute killjoy. She did not want to drink at all, let alone dance. She just sat there and crossed her arms. Soon enough, she could she Draco snogging a random girl in one of the corners at the back of the room.

"Honestly, that twit practically just dragged me to make sure he had a nanny to bring him back after he got smashed!" She looked incredulously at her drink, as if she was talking to it. In fact, she wasn't exactly sure of what exactly was in her drink. Staring at it as she let it sit in her hand for a while, she thought it was basically harmless for it was clear and it basically looked like water which had swirling blue stuff in it. Despite wondering what the lime was for in the side, she eventually took a large sip from the unknown concoction.

And then she gasped, quite too loudly, but not loud enough to penetrate through the music.

She had taken firewhisky before, but it was compared nothing to this. Her nose suddenly felt painful, and her throat felt as if it was being scorched. Her eyes watered and she desperately tried to grab for water, juice, _anything_ as long as it wasn't this.

She took a swig, no, rather she chugged the whole glass of whatever it was she need not know at the moment. For as long as it looked like juice and had ice, she could care less.

Hermione exhaled, hoping for relief that did not come. She tried to call out for Draco's name, but it was useless. He was gone yet again, perhaps with _another_ girl.

"Hello there." A man startled her as he took a seat beside her. He offered her a drink which was coloured pink this time. "Why are you all alone? I could've sworn you were with a guy a while ago. Blonde? Strikingly intimidating? Your boyfriend, right?"

Hermione didn't even know why this man was talking to her. Her head felt unbelievably light and her hands felt like jelly that she couldn't even clutch the drink in her hands properly. She set the drink down and sighed, "Are you kidding me?" She laughed loudly; it was as if her body _and_ mouth had deceived her, saying stuff carelessly. "I'd rather go out with a bloody werewolf than go out with him. No, even werewolves are okay—some are actually good looking. House elves, yes, I'd rather go with a house elf than go out with him." She laughed again, now taking a sip carefully (she did not even understand how she was able to do this) from the pink liquor the man had offered her.

House elf? Werewolf? The man looked at her incredulously, yet his face softened as he joined her in laughter. _My, she really is drunk_, he decided.

Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy was practically having the time of his life. Who knew muggles actually _knew_ how to have fun. It was an unbelievable experience. The women in this room would never compare to the women in the Wizarding world in terms of sex, no. These women could make him come even _without_ the sex. He was not exaggerating; he was simply stating the truth.

Draco Malfoy was having too much fun to even remember anything about Hermione Granger.

"So tell me about yourself, how old are you exactly?"

"As a matter of fact, I'm 18." She giggled.

"I'm 21. You from here? I don't see you around here all the time."

"I go to school somewhere in Scotland though."

Hermione yet took another swig of her pink drink and sighed in contentment. By now, she had gotten used to the taste of alcohol that she didn't really mind it anymore. Perhaps the high alcohol content of whatever she was drinking finally had found a way to numb her tongue

"Sorry what's your name again?" By now, she could've sworn she saw someone who looked just like Ron in front of him.

"Dylan. Really, how many times have I got to repeat this?" He laughed.

"Oh yes, yes. Nice to meet you Ron." She smiled sheepishly.

Dylan cocked a brow at her. _She isn't all that bad, really. _She had curly hair that matched her heart-shaped face. Her brown eyes looked darker than he had first seen them. _Intoxication_, he concluded. He stared at her; it was very hard to dodge her drunken gaze with those eyes, really. Her lips were parted and he could see a glint of her white teeth

He found himself leaning in, he couldn't help it anymore. Even _he_, himself was drunk. Then again, after minutes (an exaggeration) of slowly leaning in and arguing with himself, he suddenly found his lips against hers – and thankfully she didn't mind.

_Draco Malfoy's POV_

"Hey Draco I got you a drink!" One of my many adoring Veela-like muggle friends approached me. I remembered her face, but after three hours of non-stop snogging and grinding, I obviously forgot.

"Thanks." I said coolly. Yes, that's great. She wouldn't suspect a thing that I had forgotten her name. In fact, I don't even remember _any_ of their names—except for Granger's, but then Granger means nothing to me. She obviously can't be used for snogging, let alone grinding.

I mean really, just look at her, sitting there with her arms crossed!

I scanned the room, hoping to find more of her weird idiosyncrasies but I can't seem to find her. _Fuck_, did she leave? She had better not leave or I really will hex her before she even says the word _prat_.

Okay, so that obviously is not Granger with another man—snogging the wits out of her. But then the woman does look familiar. How many unbelievably curly haired brunettes do you see in a club?

Or maybe she'd left with another man and found a substitute thinking I would actually believe that this woman who apparently has the same hairstyle as her. But who _would_ actually look twice to that girl?

I went closer, obviously to check if they had seen Granger, that mudblood who doesn't even deserve staying with a pureblood such as me, a Malfoy.

But I'd still like a closer look...

"Drake where are you going? You promised me you'd _dance_ with me..." _Not now, stupid Veela muggle._

"Later." I said coldly, and she vanished into the crowd instantly.

"Excuse me? Have you s—" And there I saw it, Hermione Granger, drunken and violated. She gave me a drunken smile and within a few seconds, her hand that was previously around the man's neck now collapsed to her side.

"Hi M-Malfoy." She chuckled in her drunken pleasure. I felt sick to the stomach, that every bit of fun I just had a few hours ago just vanished - all because I saw Granger snogging a random man.

It was not because I didn't like _her_ snogging another person, fuck. I didn't care one bit about her whether she did or did not. But was the sight of Hermione Granger, nanny of the Golden Trio, _snogging_ somebody else! I half expected her almost all my life in Hogwarts to end up with Weasley, but this...

"Granger! What the _fuck _do you think you're doing!?" I heard myself speak against my will.

"Kissing." She chirped.

I stared at the guy who was practically _eating_ her face and as soon as I saw the lipstick marks—wait, she wears lipstick?—my stare immediately turned into a menacing glare.

He did not wait any longer for me to actually tell him to leave. "Ha ha, look at him scurry away like a frightened little ferret." I sniggered, but my little joke did not last long to actually entertain myself. I turned to Granger and shook my head in sheer mockery.

"Good show! Didn't know you were such a tart, Granger. Was Weasley that bad of a kisser that he couldn't satiate your desires?" I laughed.

"I am not snogging Ron." She suddenly sounded sober, or so I thought it sounded sober.

"Oh I'm sorry, did you and your boyfriend didn't go through that stage yet?" Oh yes, it was fun to make fun of her, especially when she was in this state.

"If youu mush-t kno-ow!" She raised a hand and pointed at me, but it seemed that her hand felt too heavy to even sustain that position. "I am absssolutely sssingle! This means I can snog whoever I want!" Yes, Granger, given that they'd actually even _want_ to kiss you.

"It's quite warm, don't you think?" She started struggled to take off her sweater, but as she did, the tank top—or so I think they call these tank tops—under her sweater got caught up with it, _almost_ making her take off her upper garments (brassiere not included) altogether—but thankfully she noticed this and pulled her top back down.

And I gasped, I wanted to look away, but it just was **not** right. Who in the world—who in the fucking world knew that this person, this girl, this girl I was so used to calling 'mudblood' had the most, if not, _one _of the most amazing bodies I've ever seen in a woman.

She looked almost sinful. Merlin, maybe I have taken in too much alcohol. Please let this be just a drunken state or else I will never forgive myself for even finding Granger's body even acceptable.

But really, who knew she had such a nice rack? Who knew she actually had curves under those rag-like school robes she was always in? Who knew that her breasts were actually round and perk, and not triangular as the rumours in the school say? Or perhaps it could be her tank top. It hugged her in the wrong places, deceiving my eyes.

"Granger, let's go." I grabbed her arm, painfully on purpose.

"No, let me go!" She hissed, her parted lips looked so swollen, and her eyes were filled with such obscurity that even I could not decipher. I shoved her arm back to where it was before and I looked at her.

And the most unexpected turn happened, her arms snaked their way around my torso, pulling my lower regions against her chest. _Fuck_. This cannot be good.

"Malfoy... I'm too tired to go home..." She whined, or was she... moaning?

She pressed herself against my lower regions get again, thank Merlin this time she had hit my buckle.

"Get off me, Mudblood!" I grasped both shoulders and pushed her back to the loveseat, not caring whether I had hurt her.

She stared at me with those intoxicated, deep brown eyes, with a hurting look in her eyes. I shuddered and took a seat in front of her, taking the untouched drinks that were left to be consumed.

I chugged it, almost just in a gulp. I didn't care what, but I needed something to make me forget about my state of deviation with Granger's body. I staggered as I finished my fourth drink and by the time I finished my fifth, I looked up to see that she was asleep.

Finally, the mudblood was dead to the world. But then...

"Fuck, Granger! Wake up! I am not bloody carrying you home! I don't even know where the flat is!" I shouted through the loud music, shaking her awake.

And she took my hand, lacing her filthy fingers with mine. I struggled to pull away, but she kept a firm hold. Who knew that the mudblood actually had other strong parts in her?

"I wasn't asleep, Malfoy." She spoke in a slur. She licked her lips and now it was even worse that I found myself in such a helpless state—and her lips were glittering of moist, as if seducing me.

"_This means I can snog whoever I want!"_

If I wasn't in such a state, I would hex those lips into fish lips.

If I could do magic, I'd have apparated.

If I Granger hadn't put up such a show, I'd have had sex with the most wonderful looking _Veela muggles_ I'd found.

If _she_ wasn't drunk, she'd have gone home by now.

If she just kept her body to herself, my mind—clearly not in its regular state—would have not been preoccupied with wanting to do unimaginable things with her.

But I just wasn't, wasn't in my correct state of mind.

_**And neither was Hermione Granger**_

Draco Malfoy found himself leaning in, giving up on what was left of his self respect and pride; he leaned in slowly, unconsciously—until...

"What in the world do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" It was _she_ this time, who shoved his hand away.

"What do you think _you_ were doing!?" He retorted, the usual bite in his voice coming back along with his senses. _Who the hell does she think she is?! _His sight was now clear, and thanks to his fury, he now saw nothing in Hermione's body – now making sure that it was his drunken state of mind that made him such unthinkable thoughts.

"Really, Granger!" He sneered as he continued, "Embracing me? Even going as far as touching my hand? Who did you think you were just now? A _pureblood_? Just like my lot? Did your drunken mind actually believe you were as good as Pansy?"

Hermione Granger was beyond appalled. Never in her life was she compared to that _tart_. No! And what was even worse than that was the mortification she felt – a result of the great amount of alcohol she consumed in less than an hour.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out, she wanted to say so many things. That she had not at all even considered that—that—girl in the same level as her. Hermione believed that she was not at all as pretty and as feminine as Pansy Parkinson could be, but she would never go as low as stoop down into the likes of her. She believed herself to be the one to succeed, the one with the brains, the responsible one.

"Stupid cat got your tongue, Granger?" Draco scoffed, enjoying her unable to find a retort.

And then she smirked, and raised a brow at him. "Apparently, I wasn't the one leaning down for a kiss. Who knew Draco Malfoy would actually dare kiss a _muggle-born_."

"If you must know Granger, your feeble attempts to seduce people worked on a foolish man, and almost actually worked on me. After all, in a man's drunken state of mind, nothing is impossible kiss. Then again, maybe you're an exception Granger. Your filthy blood just reeks—so filthy that it can even penetrate through a heavily intoxicated pureblood wizard to bring back his normal condition."

"I wasn't trying to seduce—" She got cut off quickly by him saying,

"It's the lack of sex that's been getting to me, Granger. Do not flatter yourself. A person like you is not worth being flattered."

**A/N: Steamy? I believe fuming, is actually the word for it. Seems like the two won't be doing what Professor McGonagall predicted at all anytime soon. **


	4. Chapter 4

**The Muggle Project**

_By Ceri Blackheart_

**A/N: **I will be a bit behind in updating as I am now writing/rewriting my old storied which are to be uploaded (Right now, I'm currently posting on Turning of the Tides—a light read). Expect at least a two day wait—but if you give me reviews, I _might_ just update faster. Moreover, I've gotten a recent review about Hermione's _unbelievable_ actions. Yeah, she was being a pushover, but how was she going to act? She had to compromise.

Update: Sorry for the immense delay. By the time I've finally retrieved this file, wouldn't let me sign in to my account.

**Chapter Four: Hermione Granger is NOT dying!**

_Hermione Granger's POV_

_I seduced him? Who in the right mind would actually believe that I, Hermione Jean Granger would seduce that vile creature?_

"HA!" I heard myself laugh out loud in spite of the anger I felt. It was ludicrous and obviously a twisted lie. How dare he?!

Not only that, but he also compared me to that tart, Parkinson.

I took an aspirin, almost choking as I was not used to this kind of medicine anymore. After all, almost seven years of taking nothing but potions – one was bound to forget how Muggle medicine felt and tasted like.

My temple throbbed along side with the aches and pains I have in my body. I struggled to sleep on one side. I felt unbelievably awful that I could not even read at all. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, what's worse is that Malfoy's accusations were still ringing in my head.

But it felt like it wasn't me. Could I have been under the influence of something higher than alcohol? _I refuse to believe that I did that voluntarily!_ Honestly, anyone in a right mind would know that I wouldn't snog a random man. Really.

I hardly remembered how I ended up in such a situation. I just remembered feeling someone kissing me and the rest was just too vague to even remember.

By now, I've come to a decision that by far, this has got to be the most difficult bed to sleep in. It was hard, and the pillows were quite hard to fluff as they were heavy and were just incredibly uncomfortable that fluffing them up did not improve its comfortableness in the slightest.

"Hung over are you now?" I heard a voice from outside my door.

_Just go away, Malfoy._ I wanted to throw my pillows at him—anything to drive him away.

"Go away." I mumbled. I couldn't handle loud noises; my head would pound mercilessly every time I heard them. Even I had to tone my voice down.

"Speak up Granger. Even an elf with ears the size of shoes won't be able to hear that." He sneered. Oh yes, how he just loved picking on me, especially when I was completely helpless.

"Just go away." I buried my head under the wretched pillow. Even aspirins couldn't cure this. I needed a potion. A Dreamless Sleep Potion – that should've done the trick. But there is no potion for quick sleeping in the Muggle world.

"Wouldn't you just give anything for Pomfrey's good old potions for pain killing?" He now came inside my room, making me feel even worse.

_That's it._

"Malfoy, unless you want to keep your capability to breathe, I suggest you _fucking_ leave me alone." I growled, my pounding temple reminding me that I was still hung over.

_Normal POV_

It had been almost been a week, and Draco Malfoy could not stand another minute in the Muggle world. For days, he hadn't been in contact with any of his friends and family.

And for days, he had not witnessed any magic at all. He had seen pitiful clowns, trying to pass off as Wizards. The only actual connection he had left with him to the Magical World was Hermione Granger, as shaggy haired and as embarrassing she was to be with, he would admit. _She _was the only reason why he was surviving this hellhole they call the Non-Wizarding World.

"Granger, get your ugly arse off of bed and let's go out and have some fun." He said out loud outside her door.

No response.

Of course, what should he expect? The girl had a bloody hangover. She wouldn't be able to speak without her head throbbing for every word and syllable she'd utter.

"Granger, Hermione Granger." He said out loud, knocking several times on her door for the mere sake of annoying her.

Hermione wanted to hex Malfoy, and do despicable things to make him cry or even better – feel the pain she felt. She too, had missed Hogwarts more than ever—missing to be the witness of Magic, missing her friends, people like her. And as dreadful as it was, she reminded herself constantly that she _had_ to get along with Malfoy.

"Malfoy." She grumbled in her sleep, obviously having been disturbed in her sleep by _him_.

_Draco Malfoy's POV_

"_Malfoy."_ I heard a faint voice from the other side of the door. _Sleep talking?_

"Oy, Granger. Why are you moaning my name in your sl—" I opened the door, not even caring anymore. And I saw her, spluttering on the floor with no shorts on.

"**AHH!" **we screamed, and I closed my eyes.

"I didn't see anything, Granger! I swear!" I became defensive, not even daring to open my eyes. Who knows what could've happened. I mean, not that I doubted myself, but I wasn't entirely sure of whether I was drunk last night or not.

"Malfoy, can you get me some aspirin?" She sounded awful. Like a croaking Hippogriff.

I opened my eyes to see her covering herself with the blanket, too tired to even carry her body to the bed. She had circles under her eyes and she looked rather pale. Merlin, has this girl even _drunk_ alcohol in her whole life?

"You look awful. Even worse than your normal condition – if that wasn't bad enough." I said.

"Typical, Malfoy. I almost thought you were actually feeling sympathetic, but you always manage to fit in an insult even in the shortest sentences." She chuckled, then laughed, then groaned.

Seeing Granger on the ground like this, it was almost unbearable.

"Are you sick, Granger?" I asked quietly as I slowly descended to the floor where she lay.

"Well, if this is what a hangover is, then I'd say I was hung-over, but seeing that this clearly isn't just a hangover, then I'd say I was sick."

I held out a hand, grudgingly. But somehow, I was compelled to make sure she wasn't dying. I touched her forehead gingerly, making it clear that I was checking her temperature so that she'd get no ideas.

Yeah, she was hot, temperature wise. And not only was she scalding hot, she seemed to be suffering a great loss of energy.

"Idiotic Granger." I swore under my breath. Honestly, if she had just _controlled_ herself.

"Get back in bed, your temperature has got to be above forty degrees in that state." I hissed, pushing her daintily towards the bed.

"Why do you care so much? It's just a fever. I won't die, Malfoy. Then again, isn't that what you want?" Is she becoming irritable? Because of the fact that I was actually _concerned_?

"Now's not the time to become so bloody ungrateful, Mudblood. Get back to your bloody bed. I don't want to drag a dying Granger back to Hogwarts."

She groaned, muttered several incomprehensible words and then finally said something understandable, "Malfoy, if you turn around and get your arse out of my room, then _maybe_ I can actually move around?" She patted her hand against her lower regions.

I didn't want to involve myself any longer in this. I slammed the door behind me, not even bothering to care anymore.

_Normal POV_

Hermione was beyond confused.

First the iniquitous blonde was telling her off for being a mere Muggle-born, calling her filthy and other despicable names. And then he suddenly barges into her room, telling her to get back in bed because she had a fever?

But either way, she took his advice. She got back to bed, putting on a pair of trousers before Malfoy even broke into her room again, seeing her unmentionables.

It was only a matter of time that Draco Malfoy barged into her room while she was taking a bath, or changing, so she figured it was best to be careful.

But who would have known that this day would be the day they would receive an owl from the ever so loving teacher of Transfigurations from Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall who was also the current Deputy Headmistress?

The great black owl swooped elegantly and landed on the kitchen table, startling Draco, who was currently engrossed with the kitchen appliances and their plugs.

"Finally, civilization has found me." He praised the bird, caressing its wing as it reached its leg out for Draco to untie.

_It was either tell Granger about this now, or just leave it where she can find it next morning._

The owl's deep black eyes stared back at him, almost as if mocking the likes of Draco Malfoy.

"Don't you dare scoff at me, you... bird." Draco huffed at the owl as he untied the scroll.

_**To Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy,**_

_**Greetings and I hope you are both well. Professor Dumbledore has wished for you to keep track of the new discoveries you have made in the Muggle World. Of course, it is quite likely for Miss Granger to know about this, but we would also like all the muggle-born Witches and Wizards to see the Muggle World in a Wizard's point of view.**_

_**A parcel is about to arrive for you; enclosed will be a journal wherein you are to write everything you've done for your six months spent in the Muggle World.**_

_**On behalf of the whole Hogwarts Staff, we wish you all the best.**_

_**Signed,**_

_**Professor Minerva McGonagall  
**_

"Granger." Draco spoke loudly.

"GRANGER, A PARCEL FROM HOGWARTS CAME." He shouted.

"Granger?" He wasn't worried, but he _was_ entitled to check up on her either way.

He twisted the door knob slowly, and opened the door, the squeaking sound was unbearable and he decided it was useless to move subtly.

"Granger, McGonagall just sent an o—" He saw the girl, looking so _frail_ it was just so... _weird_. The Mudblood Granger that he so ever loathed. She was snugly covered in blankets, and even from afar, he could see the beads of cold sweat resting upon her forehead.

"Go away, Malfoy. I'm not exactly fit as a fiddle." She croaked.

"Granger, I really should owl a healer to at least assist you. You're dying." Draco pointed out lamely.

"Malfoy, don't spread your idiocy in this room, I'm already spreading as many germs as I can." She shifted in her bed.

"Don't be so fucking difficult, Granger. I don't want to be stuck in here with a dying Witch."

"Malfoy, my head is about to explode. Just please exit the room—wait—what was that about Professor McGonagall?"

"McGonagall gave us an assignment about some journal—Merlin—Granger, I'm serious, you need a healer." Draco looked almost frantic. He had caught a glimpse of her face, and if he didn't know any better, he'd have thought her face looked rather... gaunt.

"Do you honestly think that I need a healer? Muggles live like this every single day. You don't see them crawling around begging for miracles—magic in other terms which is impossible for them and something perfectly normal for us. I mean, if they did, they'd be extinct by now. But they can live off aspirins and Tylenol. So don't act like an idiot, Malfoy. If you paid attention in class, you would know a thing or two about Muggle medicine."

_Honestly, even at the point of her practically dying, she'd still have the nerve and energy to speak to me as if she were speaking with a child._

"You really should listen to yourself babble when clearly, you _are_ dying." Malfoy paced around the room, picking up pillows everywhere with two slender fingers, feeling utterly repulsed at what he was doing.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" Hermione could see his head bobbing up and down.

"Picking up after your dirty pillows -" He realised he picked up something else. "-and your unmentionables."

"Give me that!!" She shrieked and shot out of bed, snatching the clothing adorned with green lace from his hand.

"Whoa, easy there." He grabbed her by the shoulders just before she was about to tip over from her stance. She looked absolutely dreadful.

"Please, Malfoy. Get your scaly hands away from me. I'd rather you _not_ touching me, thank you very much. And I can stand on my own. I just lost balance." She sat down on the bed and staggered.

"Gr—Merlin, you wouldn't believe how many times I've said your name in this past conversation—but anyway, I really do suggest you take a potion. They don't happen to have jars of lizard spawn or powdered Mermaid fins in here, do they? It's an easy recipe for speeding up recovery from fevers."

Sometimes, Hermione had to admit, Draco Malfoy was just unbelievably brilliant. His skills in Potions could actually compare to Professor Snape's. Not only in Potions, no, but also in Duelling, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and many more. But what she couldn't understand is how incredibly clueless he just was. It was either that, or he was an incredibly awful actor.

He probably knew that she _wasn't_ dying, but still kept on pushing it. Perhaps he really did want her to die?

And most of all, there weren't lizard spawns in the Muggle World, nor are there Mermaids known to them. If there were, all hell would come loose and these Muggles would gather up all the Mermaids in all bodies of water and start conducting experiments with them.

Clearly, Science and Magic were just never meant for each other.

But even in the light of this, Draco Malfoy's brain currently held neither Magic nor Science at all. It was filled with utter daftness and sheer vanity.

"Do you consider yourself smart, Malfoy?" Hermione asked him in a serious tone.

"Why, as a matter of fact, I do."

"Okay, then if you were, you'd know that I am _not_ dying, I just merely have the _flu_ which is caused by bacteria which my immune system is fighting very hard inside of me as of the very moment. Moreover, if you had been paying attention to your Muggle Studies, Lizard Spawn means nothing to Muggles nor do Mermaids 'exist' in here." She was just about to tuck herself in her blankets once more but added something else, "And if you would be so _smart_ enough to _not_ leave me alone, maybe I will die—die of your droning voice."

"I'll have you know that _I_, Draco Malfoy, would never even think twice of taking up Muggle Studies. And did you even consider that I was actually worried about you? Merlin knows that I wouldn't want a dying Witch in my hands." He had an appalled look on his face.

"Well, no, I didn't. And really, I would like to get some—" she coughed loudly then went on, "-sleep."

He thought about something else to say, but found nothing.

She started dozing off, putting the ache at the back of her head—which, by the way, was also aching terribly—and started dreaming about Harry, Ron, and herself back in Hogwarts with no clue of the Project whatsoever.

He found himself in deep thought, although thinking about the most random things in the world. Perhaps not too random, now that he thought of it. He thought about how the Government worked in the Muggle World, how they survived without the help of magical potions, how they survived everyday life, and how they survived on junk food alone.

He thought about how Hermione was probably feeling death within her, how he _maybe_, just _maybe_ was actually scared to find out Hermione Granger dead. It wasn't because he was attached to her, no. But perhaps the reason why he was so concerned is that they've known each other for almost seven years, seven years in utter loathing. But despite all that, perhaps they've unknowingly formed a bond. Nothing romantic, nothing that offered friendship, he had no other word to describe it. It was merely a bond within two individuals.

But in the end, he too, found himself sleeping outside her room, on the couch—not knowing that their breathing were synchronised, both not knowing that outside this very apartment, watching them was a tabby cat whose eyes had markings around them similar to the pattern of Minerva McGonagall's spectacles.

And little did they both know that in the middle of the night, a Healing Potion was instantly conjured on Hermione Granger's bedside table with a piece of parchment that says, _**'Be Safe'**_right beneath it.

**A/N: Please review? Please check my other stories as well. –grin- **


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